Rumours & the NotSoMidLife Crisis
by storyfan101
Summary: Sam & Fiona come to terms with other peoples' thoughts on their best known characteristics.


**Warning**: This was written by a sick person with a _Really_ bad cold, not having had much sleep and praying the overdose on Tylenol won't cause too much damage.

Which caused me to go back and read many of the older stories posted in the Burn Notice fandom. I have to say, Sam & Fiona have characteristics that seem to get written a little over the top sometimes. This is how my drugged up, sleep deprived, not fully functioning brain has dealt with that.

**Disclaimer**: If anyone in my physical and mental state could lay claim to anything of Burn Notice, it would be a medical wonder and an out-right lie.

Sorry to say, this is un-beta'd. I like purdys pal far too much to subject her to my sick bed ramblings. - Although both her and Daisy Day have been prodding for something of a story. Now they'll know to watch what they ask for.

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><p><strong>Rumours and the Not-So-Mid-Life Crisis.<strong>

Fiona signalled Katie, the waitress, for her usual as she sat down at the umbrella table on the patio. Over by the bar, Katie smiled as she gave a quick nod that the order was received before returning her attention to the customer in front of her.

And that is why, Fiona thought to herself, the Carlito will remain as our preferred bar of choice. She glanced over at her companion on this outing. He was eyeing her suspiciously with a beer bottle half way to his lips. He had apparently been waiting for a while. There were two empty bottles standing on the far side of the table. After swallowing, he placed the third, now empty, down beside them, making a neat row.

"Been waiting long?" Fiona asked. Not that she really cared, but it seemed a good way to start a conversation.

Sam leaned back in his chair. With one raised eyebrow he looked Fiona over from top to bottom. Fiona almost laughed. Sam was the one, and only, person who could look at her like that and keep the moment as un-sexual as a nun brushing her teeth.

"Well?" Fiona asked, "Something on your mind?"

Sam didn't answer as Katie chose this moment to set a cold beer in front of Fiona.

"Bring you two more, Sam?" Katie asked.

"I've asked before, but you're already seeing someone, right?" Sam gave Katie a dimpled grin.

Katie laughed, "For almost a year now. You've met him. Twice."

"Did I like him?" Sam asked.

Katie laughed again. "I don't know. What would you say if he bought you a plate of nachos to go with those beers?"

"I'd say that Mark is a very lucky man," Sam complimented with a friendly grin.

"For that, you get extra cheese," Katie didn't seem shocked that Sam remembered her boyfriend's name. She just gave another one of her feminine laughs as she cleared the empty bottles from the table.

Fiona watched as Katie walked away, her mid twenties youthful curves, aided by daily workouts, caused more than a dozen heads to turn and follow. And yet, Fiona realized, though Sam had flirted with Katie, it was more friendly banter than come-on.

It was Fiona's turn to give Sam a scrutinizing look. "Are you all right? You've been kinda quiet the last few days."

Sam took a moment before sighing, "You're the last person I should be talking to about this, but I think I'm having a mid-life crisis."

At that moment Fiona was glad she didn't have a mouthful of beer. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, she started to rise from her chair.

"I'll find Michael," Fiona stammered. There were some things she really didn't want to know. Michael was Sam's best friend. He should be the one to have to listen to this.

But one look at the ex-Navy SEAL and Fiona sat down again. He suddenly looked so…pathetic. His smile lacked its usual lustre and didn't even come close to reaching his eyes. Those eyes that usually glinted with mischief, held no spark, they just stared straight ahead and watched her. And perhaps the most pathetic of all, Fiona found she actually cared about these things. She sighed heavily and debated changing her order to tequila when Katie delivered Sam's beer.

"You do realize that sitting back down implies you're going to listen to my problem?" Sam clarified as much for himself as for Fiona.

"If you beat around the bush for too long, I will have time to rethink my decision and leave," Fiona crossed her arms, but found a better confidence builder sitting on the table in front of her. She quickly picked up her bottle of beer and drank down half of it. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she took a deep breath and announced, "Ready. Tell me about your past-mid-life crisis."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Past-mid-life? Really, Fi?"

Fiona shrugged. "How old do you think you'll get, Sam? Doing the things you do with Michael, you're lucky to be as old as you are."

"What about you, Fi? You're out there with us," Sam pointed out.

"Women are known to live longer than men," Fiona smiled devilishly.

Sam's eyes popped open with bewilderment and he rubbed at his temples. He recognized a losing argument when he saw one. Especially one based on female half-logic.

Fiona took another swig from her beer, hiding her laughter at Sam's expense. "So tell me about your old man crisis."

Sam glared but refused to be drawn back to that argument. "I've been thinking about things. About what we do now and what I've done before. I've always thought I had a long list of accomplishments behind me," he paused to grab Fiona's beer from the table and finished it off before she could grab it away. "Thanks, Fi."

Fiona wrinkled her nose as Sam handed back the empty bottle. "My pleasure," She drawled out sarcastically.

Katie had impeccable timing, as she showed up with two more bottles and a plate of nachos. Noticing the fresh empty, she did her waitress duty by asking, "Should I just keep bringing two until you tell me to stop?"

"There'll be a huge tip by the end of the night if you do," Sam acknowledged.

"Consider it done," Katie promised and walked away.

Fiona watched as Sam picked up a bottle and held onto it. He was distracted as he picked at the label, so Fiona reminded him of their conversation, "Your accomplishments? Long list…?"

Sam smiled, but instead of continuing he asked Fiona a question, "What about you, Fi? Do you ever think about what you're good at?"

The question made Fiona pause before answering. Sam seemed to be serious about the question so she thought she should answer truthfully. "It's not a long list, Sam."

Caught off guard by her answer, Sam raised an eyebrow. Fiona took a drink before explaining. "I'm more of a specialist. It may be a short list, but I'm _really_ good at all of it."

Sam laughed out loud. It was a moment where things almost seemed back to normal, but Sam soon returned to his broody state.

"There have been rumours, Fi. They've got me wondering about my usefulness to our band of merry men."

Finally, Fiona thought, an explanation for the quiet and distracted Sam. She may use him as her favourite sarcasm pin cushion, but she knew he was damn good at what he did; and he was one of a kind. Not that she was going to be the one to say that out loud.

"Tell me what you've got." Fiona decided she'd take the rumours down one at a time. Help Sam see them for what they were, hopefully without having to say anything too nice.

They must be pretty personal, Fiona thought as Sam fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with voicing what he had heard. She was caught by surprise once again when he admitted, "They're mostly about you."

"What?" she yelled before realizing her surroundings. She lowered her voice and asked again, "What? Me? You had better start talking, Sam."

Sam had picked up a particularly gooey, cheese covered nacho. He shoved it in his mouth to give himself time to answer.

"I've seen you talk around a handful of beer nuts, Sam, so one nacho chip isn't gonna slow you down. However, my patience level might end up crimping your lifestyle for week." She placed a high heeled sandaled foot on the edge of his chair. If he didn't answer her, she would drive that foot, sandal and all, deep into his thigh. He wouldn't walk right for a week - minimum. Still, he would be grateful it was a wedge heel and not one of her stilettos.

Making a loud gulp as he swallowed, he reached for his beer to help wash it down.

"Sam!" Fiona gave a slight kick to his chair to let him know she meant business.

"Hey!" Sam choked, but didn't spill one drop of beer. Proving he was a brave man, he took one more pull on his beer before talking. Mind you, it wasn't a long drink, but his point was made.

Sam started slowly, "I've heard talk about your sharp shooter skills and your bomb making skills."

It couldn't be helped, Fiona smiled as she shrugged. What could she say? She already admitted to being a specialist.

But then Sam continued, "Your driving skills, your fighting skills, your intimidation skills." Sam paused and smiled ruefully, "OK, even I'll admit to that last one being better than your average hired thug."

"Average, Sam, really?"

As Fiona's foot was still perched on the edge of his chair, Sam quickly amended, "Top of the line, hired thug, to be sure."

Fiona smiled and Sam took another drink as he grinned into his beer. He was already beginning to feel better.

"Is there much more?" Fiona asked, trying not to sound like she enjoyed hearing this.

Sam nodded as he continued, "You're an expert at martial arts, strategic planning and even computer technology."

Fiona started her second bottle of beer before commenting, "You know, most rumours are based on fact."

Sam helped himself to more nachos, "You're talking about myths, not rumours, Fi. I've also heard about some amazing cooking abilities, too."

Fiona choked on her beer. She had maybe two or three recipes she'd made enough times that she'd perfected her own twist. But amazing in general? Not even Madeline, who loved her like a daughter, would lie so outrageously.

"What about the rest of you?" Fiona was curious. If these things were being said about her, the rest of the team should have some pretty interesting things being said about them.

"Mike's the amazing burned spy that can solve everyone's problems but his own."

"Well, they've got that one right," Fiona nodded in time with Sam. They both agreed that Mike always seemed to be under someone's thumb.

"You haven't told me anything about what's being said about you," Fiona accepted four more bottles from Katie who cleared away the three empties from the table.

"It looked like I was running a little behind," Katie explained with a smile, before stepping away to serve another customer.

"I've always liked that girl," Sam raised a new bottle to his lips.

"You'd like the hunchback of Notre Dame if he kept you supplied with booze," Fiona pointed out as she helped herself to a fresh bottle.

Sam saluted Fiona with his half full beer, "And that's what they say about me. I'm a medical wonder to have avoided alcohol poisoning for so long. I no longer have blood in my veins but a rich blend of hops and barley. There isn't a woman alive that I haven't hit on, or been hit by."

The words seemed to ring true; she already needed both hands to count the number of empties that Katie had picked up. But somehow, hearing them said with Sam's voice, they just sounded so wrong. Admittedly, Sam liked his beer and the occasional mojito, but Fiona had rarely seen him drunk, and never disorderly. Fiona most certainly didn't understand what women saw in him, but she'd seen Sam – hell, she'd helped him on occasion – go out of his way to treat them with thoughtful gifts and acknowledgements.

Before she even realized what she was saying, Fiona defended him, "Rumours from hurtful, jealous women you didn't have the time to notice."

Sam's eyes went wide as saucers. He ever so slowly lifted his beer and took the longest drink of his life. "Ahh…thanks, Fi," he finally managed to say.

Refusing to acknowledge she had said anything, Fiona shoved a handful of nachos into her mouth in the most unladylike fashion.

They sat there for a long moment, not knowing what to say but neither was uncomfortable with the silence. They continued to eat nachos and drink their beer.

Sam was the first to speak up. "I think I know what my gift to the team is."

Fiona looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear him acknowledge that he was an ex-Navy SEAL with an outstanding record of successes and accomplishments. Albeit that record would also include Sam's habit to speak his mind and follow his own path.

"I'm eye-candy."

Fiona choked on her beer again. It took all her efforts to keep it from spraying across the table. Fiona grabbed up a napkin to hide her mouth as she sorted herself out.

"What?" was all she managed to squeak out.

"I figure it this way," Sam leaned forward in his chair, an earnest expression on his face. "If you're getting all the credit for the leg work and back up duties, then someone has to be the handsome distraction." He ran a hand through his thick hair which was greying at the temples, and straightened the collar on his red floral Hawaiian shirt. The dimple had returned to his smile and there was a light back in his eyes that had been missing for several days.

"You've got it all figured out, Sam," Fiona agreed with no hint of sarcasm. They both recognized the rumours for what they were. Ill spoken words based on part truths from people who didn't know half of what really went on. Rumours become much easier to face when you acknowledge them for what they are and you have a friend watching your back. They both raised a beer and clinked the bottles in a silent toast to each other.

It was several hours later when Michael appeared. Katie had called him to come collect his two wayward friends. Neither Sam nor Fiona was in a fit state to drive home.

Michael stood by the bar watching his friends at the table. They had their chairs so close together, the armrests were touching. Even so, they both were leaning in towards each other, their foreheads almost touching. They were talking in low tones, conspiring about something, Michael was sure, as every few minutes they would both erupt in snorts and giggles.

Michael almost didn't want to interrupt. Sam had been acting moody and off for the last few days and Fiona, against her natural inclinations, had worried. Now here they were…together… drunk. He could only hope for the best.

"Could you bring two coffees?" Michael asked Katie.

"Already got a pot brewing," Katie assured him.

"They been behaving themselves?" Michael wanted to know.

Katie smiled reassuringly. "They even helped take care of an angry husband an hour ago. Stopped him from smacking his wife who was here with a girlfriend. They got a round of applause for that."

Taking a second look at his friends, Michael wasn't surprised to hear that they would take care of that situation. Even several sheets into the wind, they would be a force to be reckoned with.

Sighing, Michael decided it was time to get his friends moving. He managed to walk up to the table and take a seat before either of them noticed his arrival.

"Told you he'd come," Sam only slightly slurred his words as he held out his hand, palm up, in front of Fiona.

Fiona glared at Michael as she reached into her bag and pulled out a five dollar bill. She slapped it into Sam's palm.

"That's strategic planning, I've won back," Sam saluted Michael, who had no idea what Sam was talking about.

"Congratulations," Michael smiled, wondering if he even wanted to know.

Sam turned his attention back to Fiona. "So what's that leave?"

Squinting down at a napkin in her hand, Fiona moved it back and forth until she found focus. "We've agreed sharp shooting and computer tech are yours, but bomb making and intimidation are mine. Martial arts belongs to…"

"Mikey," Sam had leaned over to brush some crumbs off the napkin.

"Oh, that's right," Fiona smiled. "Michael gets martial arts." She finally looked up and acknowledged his presence at their table. "You agree with that don't you, Michael?"

"Of course, Fi," Michael was not going to argue about anything with his two drunken friends. What would be the point? He didn't know what they were talking about and they weren't going to remember in the morning anyway.

"I think that's another point for me on planning strategic, like," Sam's fingers twitched, indicating they were expecting another fiver to grace their path.

"I don't think so," Fiona shook her head, but smiled her thanks at Katie as she delivered two coffees to their table and cleared away all the beer bottles, empty or not.

"What?" Sam seemed slightly disgruntled. Whether it was over Fiona's comment or the removal of unfinished beer, it was hard to tell until he added, "I had to pay out for eye candy each time you got hit on."

This sparked a curious response from Michael, but he was ignored as Fiona explained to Sam, "You paid me first for that shoe salesman, or whatever he was; then I paid you for that overly done-up trollop," Sam smiled as he remembered the trollop, but Fiona didn't linger long enough for him to comment. "Then you paid me back for that business man from Ohio."

"Didn't I have to pay out again for that weird surfer guy?" Sam asked.

"Yes, but we counted that as intimidation. Face it, you're afraid of me," Fiona smirked.

"All too true," Sam admitted and held up his coffee cup in salute to Fiona's observation. "But so were the salesman, surfer and trollop."

"You forgot the business man from Ohio."

Sam shook his head, "Nothing scares a business man from Ohio. You have to have balls of steel to even think about business in Ohio."

Fiona's giggle surprised Michael. Had Sam and Fiona just shared a moment? Michael leaned forward in his chair, watching his friends who were usually so antagonistic, be nice to each other. Even though he didn't know what was going on exactly, he was learning a lot.

"So we're left with driving and cooking," Fiona checked her napkin one more time.

Sam stood up and held out his hand to Fiona to help her from her chair. "I think Mikey wants to get home, so tomorrow I'll prove with an amazing Shrimp Scampi, that cooking is all mine."

"Tomorrow?" Fiona asked as she tottered dangerously about on her sandals. Sam reached out and steadied her with a hand to her shoulder until Michael was beside her and wrapped a protective arm around her.

"And if you don't eat any, it'll prove drinking's mine, too," Sam smiled as he shoved his hands into his pants pocket and walked, with only a slight weave, out of the Carlito and toward the black Charger.

Michael looked down at Fiona. She was walking mostly under her own power, but if he were to let go, she'd be kissing the ground within a few steps. "I think you'd better concede the drinking," he advised.

Fiona leaned closer to Michael and let him guide her to the car where Sam was already waiting. "Fine, Michael," she sighed, knowing he was right. She looked over to Sam, who even after their drinking, looked exactly the same as before they started, except happier. "But I know I'm right about the hurtful, jealous women."

Michael realized the comment wasn't for him, when he saw Sam lower his head to hide a smile. Whatever had been bothering his friend before had been worked out by Fiona with a night of drinking. He would probably be the one to pay the price tomorrow as he dealt with the two of them suffering from hang-overs, but all in all, it was a small price to pay.

Fini


End file.
